Freedom
by JesterFromHell
Summary: Prequel to "Stray Souls".
1. Hunter and Hunted

\- Chapter 1 -

Hunter and Hunted

"Dead..." Dante commented sourly, rolling the corpse of a middle-aged man, clad in a cheap suit over with his sword. The room was dark and silent. Just like the night outside. The gun he held with his other hand went back into the holster on his back. One debt-collector more to scratch off the list, he noted to himself. He didn't pity him too much. But the man was a human. He didn't stand a chance to whom or what had attacked him. Why would someone bother with this lowlife and risk that local authorities would crawl the place around soon enough? Because they wouldn't find anything out of the ordinary...But still, why should someone draw attention like this...?

His brother stood next to him silently. His ice-blue eyes eyes wandered over the interior of the room. Everything seemed to be in order. Nothing had been moved, not the slightest hint of a fight. There were piling papers on the desk. His fingers traced little sprinkles of blood on the wooden high board opposite the desk. The dead man's throat had been ripped apart. Skin, Flesh, arteries and the windpipe were shredded with a good amount of force. Quick and effective. Someone did this with his hand...? Claws? The way it looked to Vergil, he'd go for claws.

There was also a distinctive smell in the air. A hint of an earthy aroma mixed with the scent of an extinguished match. Something smokey, not entirely unpleasant though, he had to admit. And something else...a faint note. Oranges. He would recognize that scent everywhere by now. To many dead and what had lingered, had been always the same smell. Sometimes stronger, sometimes Dante didn't smell it at all. But Vergil was more keen on those things.

"It would seem, it is the same person. I can smell it." His lips curled in disgust at the last words he uttered.

"Whatever he is." Dante shrugged. "Sooner or later. He's going to make a mistake." At least he tried to tell himself. But it proved difficult over the weeks and month. These random murders were hard to trace, let alone predictable in any way. At first it was a welcomed distraction from the usual. Demon, kill, money. Everything fine. Not any more though.

When the first victims occurred, both he and his brother hadn't even noticed. The occasional dead man in the underground, the second layer of the not so human society in the city. Where the hunters dwelled and the outcasts from hell, the running demons and half-breeds to hide themselves. As long as hell and heaven didn't interfere, all was quiet. Everyone just wanted to make a living. It was the same with their business. And an unspoken rule had established itself to leave one another alone in peace. But it seemed yet, it was actually short lived.

The more they listened, rumors occurred louder here and there. Of course, not everything was peaches and roses. Shady individuals tried to feed of the miserable lives ever so often. May it be human or demon. And that's were Dante and Vergil first stumbled into what seemed to be a bigger picture, none could yet see it. And the loudest mumble behind closed doors up to this point was about something or someone sneaking around, taking revenge. Murdering their own kind and taking their souls. But Dante didn't give a flying a fuck about that.

An alchemist. Dead. Vergil later found out he had been trading with substances and things far more dangerous than the usual trinket, antidote or essence of whatever wretched creature. Directly imported from hell itself. Dangerous business, which drove one of his customers in such a feeding frenzy, endangering things to be exposed to outside the world that it clearly wasn't ready for. He had attacked a train in the tunnels and when the the train hit it's destination on full speed, nothing but silence and death was left in it's wake. The local media had gotten in an uproar. And their agency has had another job. Well, that's how the world goes. Track it down and dispose of all evidence of the demonic presence.

But to tie all these seemingly random occurrences together proved to be the hardest part. Too much talking with annoying people was involved. Dante couldn't stand it, it was wearing thin on his patience. And though both brothers weren't famous about that, Vergil on the other hand had himself proved to be a very persuasive talker. He would get anything out of everyone. Even the color of your grannies panties - if he would be interested in panties at all.

So Dante just reserved himself for the good ol' occasional slicing and shooting. But still, he glumly wondered what would happen when they would find out where exactly the threads met.

"We are done here." Vergil drawled, after they had thoroughly checked the whole place and found nothing.

Dante just grunted and gave him an affirmative nod and they bolted out of the window, up the ladder towards the roof and made their way back home. Ah, home. And a pizza. Though Vergil loathed pizza, the boxes with pasta and seafood, which Dante always ordered as well, never went untouched.

Though the red half devil was kind of used to it by now, there were moments he could still feel disbelief and excitement slowly bubbling up his belly threatening him to laugh out loud. You could call it happiness as it is. Just like that, because sometimes Dante found himself stealing glances at his brother, thinking about how home and Vergil seemed to fit in the same sentence perfectly.

Home. Together.

He couldn't help but look at his brother and smile.

Vergil and Dante had been separated for the good half of ten years after there home had burned down, losing everything they ever had in the fire.

Sixth month ago they were reunited by their godfather and the only father figure Dante had ever really known. When they were given into child custody after their Mom had died and their Father had vanished, Vergil with his good manors, well spoken attitude and shyness was easily relocated to a new home.

But wherever Dante went he only spelled trouble. No one was able to harbor the boy longer than one or two month before giving up on him. He was known for violent outbursts and overall snotty behavior, causing havoc where he went and enjoyed it thoroughly. No one was able to put up with the boy.

And because of what had happened to their home and parents, there had formed a rivalry between the only 8 year old siblings, which was unmatched. And destructive. Frustration and sadness reigned their hearts and minds. Both were broken and each dealt with the loss in his own way. And at a young age that left them with no ability to remotely cope with these emotions.

Though their mother had it imprinted into their minds to not tell a soul about their true lineage. And even if they knew how to handle their powers, both had made a promise to Eva to not use one little ounce of it. She feared for the wrath of hell, that surely would come after them both to pay for the deeds of their infamous father.

They were the sons of Sparda. The offsprings from a bond forged with a human woman, who Sparda had fallen in love with. He had been a high ranked devil in hell, who abandoned his kin and duties in favor of the human world.

Almost 2000 years ago, Sparda, tired of all the excessive killing and the barren wastelands he called his home in hell, he grew disgusted with commanding the destructive forces and the inevitable slaughter. He often visited the human world and curiously learned of them and their lives and traditions. He saw them grow and prosper. He saw the good in people and in the end, he found something so pure, he wouldn't return to his post. Sparda had learned, what it was to love and be loved in return.

Hell was furious and tried to unleash a war to overwhelm humanity. The priestess he had fallen in love with, was a daughter and sister to a tribe of mysterious shamans at that time and they begged him on their knees to save mankind.

And out of love he did. So he summoned all his former strength and used his sword, forged with great might in another realm far off the human world and did the unimaginable.

He, with his beloved priestess by his side, fought back the first onslaught of demons and eventually sealed the entrance ripped into the fabric of time between the human and the demon world.

For the spell, the priestess sacrificed her life and Sparda completed the ritual with sealing his own power within the sword to feed the barrier and keep it steady forever.

With his heart broken by the loss of the very woman, who taught him to love and losing almost all his powers he fled and hid himself in the human world.

So Sparda saved mankind and little is known about this, but the line of priestesses and shamans existed to this day unbroken. And the story had been told from fathers to sons and mothers to daughters. Their secret duty to guard the place and the legend ever present and not forgotten.

Hell though would not let him go off so easily, so they searched far and wide for the traitorous devil. But Sparda wandered through the ages alone and traveled the world he so loved and saved. His broken heart healed over time and he lived a human live, humble and incognito.

He eventually met Eva, the first person in ages he had told his life story to and they fell madly in love with each other. Out of caution and fear they traveled far and settled somewhere in deep silent woods and build a house there. A manor, for Sparda with his long life span had managed to amass wealth and wisdom all the same.

His studies of the world had brought him great pleasure and he lived and breathed it. So they settled down and were content. Eva then gave birth to twins. And Sparda was overjoyed with having offsprings who he could nurture and teach, to become strong and follow his path.

But eventually the evil powers began to stir again. Though with the seal intact, they had found means and ways for demons to occasionally wander the earth. Hunters were out, still searching for Sparda, because the bounty was high on his head. The ruler of hell had never forgotten and he would never forgive.

So one day, Sparda left his sons and wife, because he knew they would come. His plan was to retrieve his sword and powers and finally end it all. He wanted to defeat the ruler, because he wanted his family safe for good, even if it meant his certain death.

No greater mistake had ever been made.

On a warm summer evening the woods were swarmed by demonic hordes fresh from and set on fire. With Sparda gone, Eva and her sons were easy prey. The mother defended her sons, but was no match even for the weaker demons.

And when the house burned, young Vergil and Dante witnessed her death and in an unwilling outburst, due to the inherited power from her father, they unleashed forces unknown to them. The devils were reduced to ashes and dust, but their mother couldn't be saved.

Broken-hearted and bruised, the orphaned twins wandered to the nearest city and the authorities became aware of the dirty, pale and thin children wandering the streets.

Vergil was sent to a new family and Dante eventually was taken in by an older man, who had no family of himself, but great knowledge and wealth to give. His name was Danzig and the moment he had laid eyes on the white haired boy, he knew who he was.

So Dante met Danzig, and surprisingly, he became very attached to the old man with the mischievous looks. He was the first to make the boy laugh and open up. It was Danzig, who also knew how to handle the boys demonic power and how to suppress them enough to not arouse suspicion. Danzig taught him well about the world and all that there was.

And he never got frustrated with Dante. He learned soon, that he was more of a physical type, than to have the boy sit down and read for hours. And because Danzig revealed, how he was not human either, he gained the young boys trust and respect.

Danzig had learned of the events, and quickly figured out that he had to find Sparda's sons. He had made a promise to the former devil, to take care of his family. Years passed after that promise and whispers became louder, Sparda had died as he tried to defeat Mundanes, who he had manged to escape from so long.

With these news, Danzig had tried to find Vergil and Dante only to be met with the devastating sight of the destroyed Sparda household.

He had Dante in his custody, but Vergil's whereabouts, he would only find years later. For the family, he had been taken in by, had moved and vanished. So his attention solely lay on Dante and keeping him safe from enemy forces. And secretly he had feared, that it would have been already to late for Vergil and his new family, because they had vanished.

On Vergil's end though, things didn't g so differently. The woman of Asian origin, that had chosen him, never had been able to bear children. So she and her husband had agreed to adoption. The unusual look and sophisticated behavior of Vergil had drawn them in and so he became the son and heir to a wealthy business man, who wanted a son to someday give his company to.

But soon his wife grew ill and they decided to move back to the countryside of japan, where her father lived. So Vergil now had a grandfather as well. Surprisingly, Vergil grew accustomed to the quiet country life, because of his calm collected nature. He really liked the endless woods and solitude and spent more and more time with the old man, he soon called grandfather.

He was wise and witty and pretty much catered Vergil's endless thirst for knowledge with books to read and stories to listen to. His favorites were the ones about the proud samurais, that had fought bravely for their country.

And one day, the old man let him in a massive secret. He owned a sword, passed down in the family to the male heirs, which actually had been a demon possessed sword. Only later, Vergil would learn, that this indeed had been a devil arm.

So, with this knowledge and the deep bond that had formed between them, Vergil told him of his origin. Of his real mother, his real father and Dante.

Listening to this, the old man took pity on the poor boy and took him to train the art of sword fight. Because with the sword, the family heirloom, the story of it's power and art of wielding it had been passed own as well.

Vergil had a master now. The old man realized Vergil's capabilities and willingness to learn. And to ease his pain and give him some kind of new found meaning on life, he made him his apprentice.

Lord Godo, as his real name had been, had retired long ago and because his only daughter wouldn't be able to bear children, he had accepted that their line of sword masters would come to an end, as soon as his last breath was taken.

But with new found purpose and delight to have such a strong and smart apprentice, he taught Vergil all he knew. The story of how the samurai had to defend the land against demons and devils long ago. Godo let Vergil know, that it wasn't only about the art of fighting, but an entirely different kind of lifestyle.

And Vergil was keen on learning as much as possible. He had been obsessed with the sword fight. How one single move could hold so much power, if he focused it just right. Concentration and meditation were the key to perfect the style. It was very controlled and tactical. All things Vergil admired. And when they were not training, Godo fostered Vergil's tactical abilities with playing Go or Shogi for hours.

Vergil had found peace and mastered his abilities. But his life didn't stay that way for long. His adoptive mother passed away and a heart broken husband cast Vergil aside, like he never existed. So he stayed with Godo and never heard of the man again until it was revealed that he committed suicide month later alone in a hotel room, on a business journey on the other side of the globe.

The company and it's obligations fell to Vergil, who was too defeated yet by another loss to overtake the company. He truly had loved his adoptive mother as much as she had loved and adored her adoptive son - like no other. So, he simply sold the company, without thinking, to the highest bidder. Money was second to him, but Vergil knew it would give him opportunities and open doors. So in his eyes, it wasn't a bad thing after all to have enough of it either.

Vergil continued to live with his master for a few years because that had been what she had wanted, but Godo had yet been old, even when they had first met and he soon would follow his daughter. And Godo knew this, so to shield Vergil from any more hurt, he made him leave. Vergil had turned eighteen and Godo told him to venture out see the world.

Wisdom didn't only come books and stories, but from experience. And Vergil saw reason in the old man's wise words and understood. So he bid his farewell, but not without regret, because he knew he wouldn't see the old man again.

But Godo told him how proud he had been to have Vergil as apprentice and grandson, that he could part with a smile on his face. And how he would tell his daughter, that he was proud that she had taken in him in the first place.

Godo gave him the demon sword, the only weapon worthy of wielding for him and with that Vergil left Japan and returned to his birth stead. He visited his mother's grave and eventually Danzig learned the story of a white haired man back in his home town.

And he visited the ruins of the burned down manor in the woods and found a Vergil, who had grown up to a young serious man. And then he reunited the long lost twins, who were more apart than ever before. Vergil's aloof and austere presence wildly clashed with Dante's jovial and outspoken one.

They were like two sides of a coin, but completely different because of their upbringing, which Vergil refused to reveal much about. But his way of a samurai showed very quickly. He held on to a codex, much like some indoctrination through his fighting style and personal behavior.

But Dante and Vergil pretty quickly grew close to each other again, because of the shared childhood and the experienced tragedies. Vergil even offered Dante to train him, but Dante, offended by that, bluntly rejected him. He had a good teacher as well in Danzig, and though his style wasn't nearly as defined and choreographed as Vergil's, it still could match him no less. The raw power Dante exposed with a sword, he called Rebellion wasn't from this world either.

Rebellion had been a gift to his eighteenth birthday by Danzig on behalf of their father and Vergil yet had to receive a similar weapon. And it came in the form of a katana named Yamato. And this wasn't the only thing they received. Danzig had held on to the trinket for quite some time. And with finding out, that Vergil hadn't perished and that both had grown up to be respectable and reliable men, he presented them with the gift of their late mother, which was thought lost in the fire for so long.

Vergil and Dante both received their side of the pendant back. It was beautiful blood red stone embedded in each amulet. Dante received a silver one with necklace, where Vergil was represented with a golden one. Consecrated with a mother's pure love, they both swore an oath to let the ones that killed her pay dearly.

With Danzig as resource for all kinds of information on the backseat, both boys settled in the very same city as hunters for the supernatural. It seemed like this city especially had become a melting pot for all kinds of unnatural things. Dante had already established a respectable position and gladly invited Vergil to stay with him.

At first, it turned out, they were no better than ghost hunters and detectives in the mystery department, but that soon enough had changed. And with Danzig as provider for jobs, there never was a lacking. And then the murders had started.

The half devils had come a long way.

But right here and now though, the only thing Dante wanted was to take a break from the job and return home.

But before that, Vergil insisted on dropping by at one of their contacts, who had informed them in the first place about this and how the police was clueless about it.

They approached the familiar wooden door, though it seemed like no one was home. Dante gave the three story building with it's old, dirty grey facade a once over. Paint was peeling of the surface and it looked cramped in between two buildings either side, which were significantly bigger and newer. He took another step towards the door and knocked again.

"Well, okay. I'll just leave the card then." He said, before he quickly scribbled a note down the backside and let it slide into the slit of the old battered mailbox next to the door. That's how they usually kept in touch, when it was not necessary meeting in person. The man was terrified of all that new age mambo-jumbo or so he called it. Dante still couldn't see what was wrong with using a telephone. Oh well, to each his own.

He gave his brother a shrug that said whatever and they left.

Even after such a short amount of time, they surprisingly worked together pretty well. Of course, there was the occasional argument, but that be mended with good ounce of beating the living shit out of each other and the matter evolved quickly.

Maybe it was the boiling devil blood, but there was indeed nothing more satisfying than a good spar with a worthy and equal opponent. It was more a means to vent off energy than serious rivalry. The count would always even out to a tie.

And none bothered with it.

In fact, when they first had laid eyes on each other - even after ten years - in a matter of days they had been back to their brotherly relationship. It had been a relief. Not so much on the brothers side, because they knew from the bottom of their heart, how the other one had been alive and well.

But Danzig had paid close attention to them and he had been the most relieved to see them reunited. God knows, what he would had been forced to do, if this would had turned out differently. They were half devils in the end. Powerful ones no less, but not truly aware of the capabilities of their father's blood coursing very hotly through their veins. But it seemed like Eva had evened out this trait with the love and the patience only a mother could have given to both.

Danzig very much assumed that, at last after all these years, the brothers would stand forever united against the forces of evil, with him to watch over them for as long as needed.


	2. Bargain

\- Chapter 2 -

Bargain

* * *

The devil hunters slowly made their way to the front door of their house. Vergil was the first to enter, Dante followed suit. But before either of them could turn on the lights, both their Inner devils tensed and informed them of another presence in the spacious living room.

"Well, hello there." Dante said casually, turning slightly so he felt his back touching Vergil's. They both bristled with anticipation.

Suddenly the lights were on, flickering a few times before the chandelier above them enlightened the room.

On the other end, where the living room connected to the hallway leading further in, stood a female figure. Her hand still on the light switch.

"Good evening, Gentlemen."

Both addressed males turned to fully face the trespasser. Neither of them had ever seen that face before. But both could feel, here they had no ordinary human invading their home. Wary hands tightened on Yamato, as well as respectively Ebony and Ivory. As where Vergil was subtle to just hold Yamato in his right hand with his thumb erected to push the blade upwards and swiftly draw it, Dante blatantly pointed both guns at the female.

"Please. There's no need to get violent. I came here to talk." She slowly approached them, hips swaying a bit more than necessary. Dante's wary eyes followed her movement. Vergil just snorted at her words.

"Stop hunting me." She simply demanded in a casual voice.

"You're ..." Vergil eyes narrowed and his gaze pierced her with open menace.

"Afraid we can't do that. You murdered people. Humans. There's no way we will tolerate that." Dante said lightly, twirling Ebony around his finger while Ivory stayed fixed on her.

"They were scum. Who cares about them." She replied indifferently. "Little fish in a shark tank. They were about to get eaten anyway. What does it matter by whom?" She shrugged at them with no regret to her statement.

"It caught the attention of the local authorities. It is mostly unwelcome." Vergil chipped in, eyes never leaving her small frame.

"Yup, went a bit overboard there...Missy."

She looked perfectly normal. As much human as the twins. Her hair was a soft brown, pulled back in a messy ponytail. She wore skin tight grey jeans and black boots. Nothing out of the ordinary. A skin tight black long sleeve engulfed her upper body and to complete her forced ordinary look, she sported a muddy green vest that slightly reminded Dante of bulletproof vests like police and such wore them.

Interesting. Maybe it was what it seemed. And he felt the urge to test it. She had the nerve to intrude their home like it was nothing. And as much as her casual appearance suggested, both twins felt they weren't dealing with anything but human. Those unnatural stormy grey eyes had a given luminescence to them whenever a shadow covered her face.

"Look, let's play nice and fair. It's two one one. I wouldn't have come here unless I would be willing to talk." She explained in an alluring voice, that was emitting a strange calmness.

"Or I'll kill you and we'd be done with." Vergil insisted coldly and quickly drew and sheathed Yamato. For the human eye, it wouldn't have been invisible, but she saw it. And she mentally cursed. Damn, that one was a fast little bugger.

Nonetheless she tensed and easily sprung upwards, twirling in mid air to avoid the deadly air blades he had released with a mere flick of his wrist.

She landed at the far corner of the ceiling across them, crouching there like a spider. Ready to push herself away from the wall and ceiling, when Dante's bullets followed suit to the previous attack. And she made it to the other corner. She now openly sneered at them at both half-devils. She very much anticipated this.

"Tch...so, you're fast." Dante acknowledged with a bored voice.

"I want a truce." She said, ignoring him completely.

Dante outright laughed in her pretty face. "Come again?" He shook his head in disbelief.

"Inconceivable." Vergil muttered sourly, readying himself for another attack. But Dante stopped him with a motion of his right hand. "Verge, it's nice and all, but I really don't wanna destroy the house."

The walls sported bullet holes and gashes already. They would tear the walls right down, if they would continue.

"So, why now? Had a change of heart?" Dante inquired lightly, looking at his hand and acted like he was busy with picking his nails.

Cocky ass-hole, was all she could think. It was downright infuriating. She wanted to rid him off his attitude so much right now, eyes flashing in different hues due to her boiling anger beneath her calm exterior.

No. No. She had to cool down. Beggars can't be choosers. She was the one with the problem. And these two could be counted in on the alarmingly fleeting number of fit to help people.

"I will tell you something, if you let me." She pointed at Dante. "Put those down, please. " Add a sweet alluring smile here. "I have information to share, that even interests you. If even not should be concerning you." She let herself fall to her feet, bowing in a chivalrous manner.

She opted to keep it nice and humble. It was no use in showing off that she indeed was capable to match them. "We are civilized monsters now, aren't we." Her gaze bounced between Vergil and Dante, but lingered on Vergil a little while longer. His dignified appearance of an expert swords-master was acknowledged and appreciated. Maybe he had a sense of honor too. Both certainly had some kind of codex with noble values, acting as if they were the sole protectors of the city.

Vergil relaxed his stance, loosening his grip on Yamato and let his arm fall back to his side. She was practically offering her life with that low bow. It would be an easy kill. Too easy and beneath his stand.

She breathed a slow sigh of relief. The tension seemed to dissolve, but of course their wary looks stayed.

"So, what's up with these murders?" Dante was the first to speak, while his brother busied himself with fixing his coat back into place from his previous inhumanly fast movements. Then he put Yamato forth to stand on the ground, and leaned on it with both hands firmly on top.

Dante gave each pistol a lazy twirl and then both guns went back into the holster on his back. After that he let himself plop down on one end of the huge sofa quite unceremoniously, both arms outstretched to rest on the armrest and backrest. Vergil briefly scoffed at his brothers slanting, but remained silent, knowing better to loose his focus on her.

His sophisticated features were set on the female demon. "We are waiting. And I'm not known for my patience." He advised her in a warning tone. She gave him a sweet smile, which he ignored entirely and certainly wouldn't bother to even return it.

She cleared her voice. And after a melodramatic pause she started to explain herself. "Alright. Here's the thing." Her hands were in motion, as she used them to underline her words. She slowly sauntered over from the far side of the room as she spoke.

"There is something going on in this city."

"Wait a second. We haven't even done the introductions now." Dante interrupted her immediately and she rolled her eyes and sighed. "I know very well who you are. I did my homework." She reprimanded him with a pointed finger.

"Okay then. What's your name? Or should I call you Babe?" Dante chuckled.

"I'm not stupid enough to give you my name. Please." She openly scoffed and gave him a bitter look. "Names hold power. I don't trust you enough to let you know yet. In fact, there's no one that holds enough of my trust to gain that knowledge." She dismissed him bluntly. "And don't even think about calling me babe." Her face contorted as if she had tasted something utterly displeasing as she yet again walked walked past the couch, which Dante had sprawled on the third time.

Vergil couldn't help but smirk. He had seen enough to draw his own conclusion about her persona.

"I take it you're a full fledged demon then. And one that can be bound. You're a small fish in the shark yourself then." He let out a low taunting laugh. Unlike his brother, Vergil knew the lore by heart. The hierarchy of the demon realm and it's complicated design as to who had to heed to whom. And how certain classifications of the lower races could be bound. He could recite the The Lesser Key of Solomon and the Le Dragon Rouge completely by memory.

Her face and posture at first sight didn't give away, if she was in any way disturbed to what Vergil had said. "So, since you out voiced so carelessly where you stand, you of all people will never know my name." She stated as casually as possible and had them almost fooled, but the slight dilated pupils of her winter grey eyes betrayed her voice and her aloof manner. "A waste of time you two." And with those muttered words she turned on her heel and was about to leave.

"Wait." Dante said hastily getting up, even extending his hand out to her. A disgruntled side glance at Vergil warned him to don't push the topic any longer. Dante knew his brother meant well, but this could be too much trouble to ignore.

"It's okay. We won't ask again. It's your choice. If you had any reason to go on this killing spree than explain. What exactly is going on?" She had taken a great risk in coming here. So he at least was willing to hear her out.

She stopped, but didn't face them again. Her voice though was still clear as day. She had the ability to make it sweet as cotton candy or so deep, it had a certain erotic timbre, which could send shivers down the spine and aflame the insides. Dante had noted it the first time she changed between those. She truly was a devil. She used the alluring voice, when she spoke again.

"Someone is determined to take reign of the city. There's already a tight circle of demons forming, that won't let anyone or out. Someone's taking control of the businesses in low town. I lived here a long time and never had it been like this. People are disappearing, lower demons swarming the places. The humans being manipulated and harvested like sheep. Haven't you noticed the increasing numbers of hell hordes around?"

She took a few moments to let that question sink in. If they were the local top-notch demon hunters, they proclaimed they were, they surely must have come to realize by now. One look at them and she knew they had.

"So you're saying someone's drawing them in?" Dante perked up on his lounging spot.

"Or summoning them." She corrected him, slightly cocking her head.

"Absurd." Vergil grunted.

"Well, let me ask you this then? Why people keep missing? First it started down the at the settlement of homeless at the outskirts. Where are they?" She asked offended by his indifference.

No comment whatsoever, so she continued. "Well, seems like you don't know- " She mocked and after a dramatic pause, she finally added. " -but I do."

It was true. They never ventured this far out, because all there was, was a human pile of dirt. Nothing of personal interest to either of them. This was the first time they heard about this.

"They've been slaughtered I tell you. But it wasn't sufficient. To use powerful magic and summons and bindings you always need blood as pure and innocent as possible, right?" She finally turned around, her eyes resting on Vergil.

"And one more thing. It is rumored, that there are hidden artifacts in the human world that can open up huge powerful portals. Gangways for many a demon to get through."

Vergil's grip on Yamato unintentionally tightened significantly. Her eyes darted between the two devil hunters and an O formed on her lips. "I see. This isn't the first time you heard that story." She grinned knowingly.

Again neither gave an answer. She sighed and became slightly disgruntled that she apparently was chosen to be the sole origin of voice here. "Anyway. Up until now, I think no one found one." She gave a wave of one and as to push the matter aside.

"I've witnessed strange people one night as they performed a ritual to open up a portal, but it was still fairly small. One person stepped out of it. But I couldn't stay, they had noticed my presence. Since I didn't know, what exactly I would be up against, I withdrew. But the humans, which were present? Well I managed to get a hold of them later."

"The murders." Dante concluded with a dark mutter. Now it fell into place. "But seriously. Why so many? Can't be, they were all present?"

"They were. Praising and kneeling in awe at the person coming out of the portal. Like maggots they writhed in the dirt before the coming of him."

"Who?" They asked almost in unison.

She shrugged." Beats me. And I don't care..." She looked down at her feet, heaving another sigh. "Twelve. Twelve people died on that night. They didn't understand anything, until those scumbags went on to slash their throats and let them bleed to death." She said quietly more to herself than to them.

"Oh, that's original. A demon caring for the humans." The bitter remark by Vergil had her wanting to lash out at him. The nerve of this cocky bastard.

"This sounds all so obscure, you sure you're not making this up to get us off your back? How do you really know all that?" Dante asked, still carefully watching her reaction.

"Her voice suddenly boomed with an echo of underlying growls which reminded him of bubbly underwater screams. "BECAUSE I CARE!"

Dante flinched, as surprisingly did his brother. The power to incite fear in whoever was struck with that powerful burst was very prominent in her sudden burst. They might be partly immune to that kind of feat, but mere humans would have fallen to their knees by that. And it was enough to truly wonder the origins of the she devil.

"Calm yourself. This is a respectable neighborhood and we don't like to draw attention." Vergil told her harshly with eyes turned to slits. The feeling she had incited in his human half had caught him off guard and he grew irritated with her by the minute.

She huffed a few times. He was right, no need to get all riled up. She had to watch it. That temper of hers was a fickle bitch.

"You should hear yourself. It's true, I'm not nearly as human as you are. But I do care. I lived hear for so long. The city is the epitome of demonic presences. The center of exchange and peaceful coexistence. How could I not care? This here is freedom. I can do as please and no one ever did turn a head. This is a threat to me as it is to you." Her voice became louder with every pleading sentence. Again. She had to calm herself, taking in another deep breath.

"And look at you, prancing about you self proclaimed protectors of the city. And you did nothing up to this point."

Dante outright grinned at her." Then why did you come here?"

"Because you tried to kill me, remember? And I have noticed, that aside from a few others you seem to be the remnants with a neutral alignment."

"You're basically asking for our help?" She nodded at Dante with a solemn look on her pretty face. It didn't sit right with heart all, but she would feel better if these two would get involved.

"This concerns you as well as me. In the end it's either be with them or against them, when they succeed. I really don't know what they truly plan, but I did my best to find out. But I may become unwanted in certain places of the city."

Vergil and Dante exchanged a look that said, they both were not as convinced but it was worth giving it a shot. If there was any truth in this, they soon would become hunted.

"What about those artifacts you mentioned?" Vergil piped up.

She shrugged. "I haven't come across any useful information so far. It's said they were hidden in this realm. How many, I don't know. Or what they are. But that's not all there is. These rituals are tedious with or without. So my assumption is, they already gained one and just don't know how to use it, as it is not clear what is required. Or, someone very powerful is already here and uses some other kind of means to summon. What I remember of the ritual is the sacrifices and many words in a different speech. Not human."

"What speech?" Dante inquired a she gave him a thoughtful look.

"I don't know. That of demons? My guess is as good as yours."

"You don't know demon speech?" He inclined his head wondering about that.

"I've lived here for so, so long. I don't know. I don't seem to understand it any more. It always felt like talking to me in my head and I simply could grasp the meaning, but that doesn't work any longer. And I really ever haven't felt the need to try it. I never needed to in all these years. I don't know about you, but maybe my ears have dulled because of the human speech and with not visiting the demon realm. It was no use, my mind couldn't decipher what I heard."

"How long exactly." Dante quipped.

"That's none of your concern." She said curtly. "Either way. I'm asking again. Will you stop harassing me and try to really get down to it or not?" She was getting impatient. Haven't they talked enough..?

"We can't trust you." Vergil simply declined.

"What? Haven't I told you enough? They are opening fucking demon portals! This city will be swarming with hellspawn soon enough. What if they finally could open a portal big enough to actually let a Conqueror through, huh?! What do you think will happen then? Do you want one of those patrolling the streets?" She threw her arms up in utter frustration.

They exchanged a quick look and Vergil gave a curt nod.

"Okay, okay. We will look into it." Dante resigned, so they would be able to keep taps of her. And that was the sole reason behind excepting her request.

"Good. I will take my leave now. Don't look for me. I need to lay low for a while. I have stirred uo enough trouble on my account."

"Wait, how will we contact you?" Dante quipped.

"I'll find you." And with that she turned and opened the front door. "Dante, Vergil." She bowed with a last mocking grin. "Been a pleasure." And the door fell into the frame with a loud thunk.

Dante rolled his eyes. "So melodramatic."

"And cocky." Vergil huffed.

"So, what do you make of all this, anyway?"

"I have no idea. But it would seem, we will be very busy come tomorrow."

* * *

Vergil had left just after sunset. He made his way across town on a slow deliberate pace. The wind stirred and the smell of faint rain was in the air. But the peaceful sight did not betray the hunter. The houses became more and more derelict as he passed on. When the night engulfed the streets Vergil had found his destination. And as he entered the building, the first drops of rain, foreboding a stormy night, hit his coat.

A few inhabitants sat at the far end of the bar, Vergil didn't bother to look, aware of the racing human hearts beating in their chests under dirtied clothes. He quickly made his way upstairs opposite of the entrance. The air was pungent and stale. Someone clearly didn't bother to take out the trash ever so often. His face slightly contorted with disgust.

He always thought humans were a disease to this realm. Well, not all of them, but mostly. They were dirty and stinking and not very honorable in the first place. With such a short life span, one would think them to use their time more wisely than half decaying in some random bar already. It was disgusting. Vergil liked it clean and sterile and ordered. Not this trash and chaos everywhere. He wanted to yell at them to give their live at least some meaning, but remembered quickly, it was of no use and would only cause him trouble. He had no time for trouble.

He approached a wooden door with a cracked window . His hand reached out to turn the handle, but it was locked. Vergil though didn't miss a beat and turned the handle breaking the resistance of the lock until he had doorknob left in his hand.

He gave the door a single shove, breaking the cheap lock in the process and entered, chugging the doorknob nonchalantly over his shoulder. It nearly took him a second and the sound of splintering wood made the man in the room jump. His gaze landed on Vergil and he instinctively shrunk into his armchair. Eyes widened in shock.

"V-vv-Vergil.." The skinny man stuttered, trying to melt into the fake, smelly leather of his chair. Naturally he didn't succeed and he broke out in a sweat as Vergil quietly sat down opposite of his messy desk with an icy stare, but other than that his face rather devoid of any emotion.

"Relax...Lore." Vergil said. He figured from the delicious smell of fear, that his opposite was about to pee his pants. But nonetheless, he held Vergil's gaze, though his focus was unsteady. The half devil merely acknowledged his attempt of defiance with a bored roll of his eyes.

"You could have just knocked..." Lore squeaked back at him. "I'm tired of getting a new door each time you come to pay me a visit." Vergil had to smirk in amusement at his choice of words. The last visits consisted solely of Dante kicking his door down, beating him into next week and the occasional friendly death threat thrown in.

"Where is the fun it that...?" Vergil sneered as his fingers traced the dust of the edge of the desk. He scrutinized his dirtied finger for a moment and wiped the dust off at the brown curtains as he approached the only window in the room, with a disgusted look.

"Let me tell you, it it no pleasure at all to come here to this grimy place. I detest it." With a frown he looked back to Lore. "I simply have some questions. And I advice you to answer them truthfully." The cold voice with his usual faint gruff chilled Lore to the bone. His eyes darted back and forth between the door and his unwanted guest. Vergil was quick to catch on.

"He's not with me." He assured Lore of Dante's absence and his opposite relaxed visibly. Though Vergil seemed a lot more of threat, he hated Dante with a passion, because of his love for tearing his place down just for the hell of it. With Vergil he knew, he had the more reasonable half of the twins present. And so he believed him and slouched forward, arms resting on his desk, ready to talk business.

"What is it you want?" He was intrigued to say the least, had the last run ins with the devil hunters been of a pesky nature, because apparently his subordinates had yet managed time and time again to venture into their territory and even snatched away some jobs. And oh boy, they did not treat this violation of their stipulation lightly.

He had blamed it on his boys, but it had not mattered for he still had suffered the full consequences of their actions. That's what you get when you only take in a bunch of lowlifes and cheap-shots with the brains the size of a pea. But times are tough, and those were the only ones willing, considering there were often casualties.

He had to take whatever idiot was crazy or stupid enough to take the risks or he could rot in hell being out of business. But to Lore's dismay, the stupid ones outweighed the smart and/or crazy assholes by far.

After the last incident, he had spent a weak beating it into the boys' heads, literally, to stay away from anything that smelled demon and devil hunter. The first one never stood up again. Lore wanted to transfer his rules clearly and had bashed the skull of one of the sonsofbitches, until it was nothing more but sticky crimson pool of goo on the ground. That all had happened less than three month ago and up until now everything had went smoothly. So Vergil's appearance stifled him and left him curious at the same time.

"I need your eyes and ears. Lore.." Vergil clarified in a grave voice, leaving no doubt over the seriousness of the matter.

Lore perked up and folded his hands, sensing an opportunity to finally get back to pacified terms with the ominous twins.

"What the hell for?"

Vergil relaxed back and put his left foot over his right knee and rested Yamato on top of his leg. "It seems something rather curious is going on behind closed doors. I am sure, you of all people must have noticed already." Vergil led him on carefully to lull him into believing that he already knew more about the happenings than he actually did.

Lore faked a smile, shaking his head. Vergil remained silent, but instead he cocked an eyebrow, waiting for Lore to clarify his amusement. He wasn't known for his patience and Lore knew that exactly. Vergil absentmindedly played with the satin cord on Yamato's hilt.

"Sure, you not seeing things?"

Vergil slowly shook his head. Left. Right. Center. The silence from the hunter continued. His eyes bore into Lore, who cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Say, if I happen to lend you my eyes and ears...", namely his men, "...what's in there for me?"

"I let you keep that daft head of yours." Vergil casually replied without blinking once since the staring contest had started.

Lore sweated under the intense gaze, but he wasn't an idiot. On the contrary to what his opposite might believed, so he went in testing the waters. "Now, now. I will need some compensation for keeping my men busy with investigations on your end. I got to live too, you know."

Vergil, though tempted, refrained from rolling his eyes on the sloppy attempt of Lore trying to bargain with him. The man was a greedy buffoon, no big secret there. Vergil could care less about money being spend, so he had already included the inevitable oncoming request in his calculations.

"I can arrange that. Do we have a deal?" Vergil asked threateningly through clenched teeth.

Lore cracked a grin, wide enough, Vergil thought, his face would split. "Deal. I knew, we would team up at a certain point."

He widened his arms out in a welcoming gesture putting on his friendly face. "Now listen. Rumor says a man came to the city. All dressed in black and hooded. No one knows who he is. And some say, Death himself has come to collect a trinket that belongs to him. They say the man dressen in black stole it directly from under his nose."

Vergil's eyebrows rose up in honest surprise. "Really now?" He couldn't help the underlying mistrust showing in his face and voice alike. But Lore continued to look pleased, like the cat who got the canary. Surprisingly this all seemed big news to Vergil. There really was a way for Lore to be on the good side of the twins for once.

Lore knew on the spot, he had upped himself in a mere second to an asset, Dante and Vergil couldn't deny any longer. Lore had waited patiently for this moment. He would be on the safest side of whatever hell would break loose very soon.

Vergil briskly stood up and went for the door without sparing Lore another look. Before he went out, he spoke in a quiet voice, cold as ice. "I believe you have work to do. I await results at the end of the week." And then he was gone. The wind from his swift movement softly rustling the papers on Lore's desk, leaving them to fall to ground. But Lore ignored this and continued to grin to himself.

* * *

While Vergil had left to contact Lore, Dante had taken a nap on the couch in the living room. He rose after dark with a crack of his neck. He congratulated himself for being this stupid and rubbed his sore neck. He got dressed and collected his weapons. The only things that he trusted in were his weapons. And when it came to people, it was even more scarce. His brother being the only person he trusted completely.

Dante grabbed a cold burrito from the kitchen and headed out into the dark stormy night.

Half an hour later, and soaking wet, he arrived at his destination. He eyed the building for a moment, trying to sense the ever shifting entrance to the location he seeked. He bolted to the far left side and stopped by the second window from the right.

There it was.

The feeling coursed through his devil blood like a faint tremor. His right hand grabbed behind him and he pulled his palm along the blade on h sback, making a shallow cut and drawing blood from his index finger. He smeared a bloody trail across it and the glass rippled softly under his fingertip. I took a second, before it liquefied completely before his eyes. It only lasted a swift moment and Dante quickly stepped through.

His eyes effortlessly adjusted to the stygian darkness within and he found himself in a corridor with several doors. He sniffed the air. Sulfuric ashes. His nose led him without a waver to the second door. He opened it slowly and was met with orange light of hundreds of candles. And a welcomed warmth to his wet clothes and icy skin.

"My dear boy." A scratchy yet sonorous voice welcomed him inside. It originated from an sophisticated old man sitting in an old-fashioned wing chair beside the fireplace across the strangely cozy room with the extra high ceiling.

The voice of the old man sounded like gravel on a sandy road. His skin had the complexion of grey slate and stretched over a face with high cheekbones. The skin around his eyes and mouth was fairly wrinkled, showing age and wisdom. He was ageless though, yet the sign of hundreds, if not thousands, of years were clearly visible in his features. His grey hair was still full and elegantly slicked back, tied with a simple a black bow. His apparel was also as classy as ever. A fine pinstriped charcoal grey suit, tailored and fitted for the thin tall body with a matching vest underneath and a white, silken cravat.

"Danzig." Dante greeted him as he made his way across the cozy room. The people in many paintings wholly covering the high walls followed his every move cautiously, as always. Hundreds of unblinking eyes. It was still unsettling, like the very first time and the feeling never lessened, regardless of how often he had already visited. Though the baroque decor of the room still made him feel like coming home.

Danzig sat comfortably in his chair, lounging with a book on his knees. In the middle of the room stood a large wooden table rounded by dark green sofas on a black carpet with ornaments like withered vines. Danzig motioned for Dante to sit down as he rose to accompany him, leaving the book in his place.

"Looking good, old man." Dante remarked unnecessarily with a loop-sided grin, still he found it amusing, that Danzig never wore the same suit twice in all those years since Dante had been picked up by him.

No one really knew how old Danzig was and by now, no one ever bothered anymore. He now lived very secluded from the human world. And very few were aware of his existence. He only ever opened up to people that held his interest. Or that were willing to to give him something he valued. Only the twins were allowed to visit as they pleased.

Danzig was a trader. But not your average trader for petty souls and trifling trinkets. Many things, believed to be lost throughout the ages, had slowly one by one found their way to his dimension. His sumptuous collection never ceased to amaze Dante. As his eyes wandered around, he did not fail to notice that the door he came through had vanished. And the door to the exhibition hall hadn't even taken on form on either wall. The hunter scrunched up his nose at the contradiction.

Danzig caught on rather quickly. "It is not here" He remarked, in his distinctive British accent, meaning his collection.

"Oh?" Dante inquired curiously and leaned forward at that.

Danzig stood up and walked to the back of the room, that occupied his bar with the finest spirits this world had to offer. He opened a crystal flask, smelling the fine content before he poured himself a glass. "May I offer you a drink?"

"Sure." Dante replied.

Danzig settled himself back on the big sofa and after he placed the drinks on the dark wooden table. Dante took a sip and smiled, Danzig never was one to disappoint. It was a brandy. Very tangy. It burned within his belly and beckoned his spirits to come to life.

"So, what's wrong?" Dante picked the subject back up, eyeing the one next to him suspiciously.

"The devil boy did not hear it, yet he came to me." Danzig remarked, eyes twinkling and lips curved into an amused smile.

Dante didn't look at him, but watched the contents of his glass as he twirled the ember liquid. He knew better then to interrupt him. Danzig had a knack for dramatics and was easily offended if one didn't humor him. He rarely had company, so Dante just waited for him to give his speech.

"I hid it." Danzig cackled silently with the sly smile equal to a wise old fox. "It is not safe anymore. Neither in this realm, nor the next."

Despite that Dante knew better, he couldn't help but look at his opposite with wide eyes. "What do you mean? What did you do?" Did he snap and destroy his vault full of secrets and relics, because he was afraid someone might be able finally take it from the old man?

"Do not fear. It is safe. No one will lay a single finger on my property."

Dante let out a shaky breath. "Damn. You almost got me worried." He didn't question the location any further, because he knew Danzig would never give it away in the first place.

"So, my dear boy. Do you have anything that might be of interest to me and acquire something of equal value?"

"No, sorry to disappoint. Besides, I think there is not much left in the world for you to collect." Dante grinned at him for a brief moment, but became serious once more.

"Did someone pay you a visit a while ago? Wanting to trade?"

At this Danzig shook his head and Dante's secret hope sunk. If this trinket, the girl had spoken of was not coming from the trader's vault, then there was very little hope to find out about it's origin and what it was exactly, that helped the black guy to randomly open portals.

A dead end. Damn.

"What are you looking for, if I may ask?" Danzig frowned at Dante's disappointed figure.

"That's the problem. I really don't even know yet. Someone's overzealous in summoning high ranked demons to this world." The hunter rubbed his face and exhaled roughly. He hoped Vergil would have had more luck on his search for clues.

"Well, I can keep my eyes open, if you want. I may be able to learn a thing or two." Danzig offered him with a reassuring nod and then leaned closer to him, like he wanted to share a secret no one else should hear.

"What I can tell you is you have to ask the right questions." He murmured right into Dante's ear, who jerked back, hardly amused by the ridiculousness of the act. No one was ever around here. Ever.

"Cut it out, old man."

Danzig leaned back with a smirk, gathering himself with relish for what he was about to spill. "I sensed a presence a short while ago. A very strong one, unique at that. It doesn't belong. You have to go and find him. Or else everything you know will spiral into oblivion. It happened before. It cannot happen again. He is bound to another realm, heeding a higher entity you better not come across ever, until the tides turn and the land is on fire. His presence is a violation of the law."

Dante gave him an uneasy look, a strange foreboding fear settled itself in his guts to twist them painfully and he wasn't able to shake the dread off, that reached for his heart and clenched it in a cold, suffocating grip. "What the hell are you talking about?" His voice was barely a whisper.

Danzig straightened back up. "Death has come." He announced, like a dark tuned bell, the words rang over and over in Dante's head.

He blinked, in utter disbelief. "Death...? As in _The_ Death?" He sounded amused, but Danzig's stern look for once wiped away the grin that played around the corner of his lips.

"The grim reaper himself. The Fourth Rider on his pale horse." Danzig announced soberly, which was unbecoming of his normal behavior, and took another sip.

Dante tried to adjust to these news. He didn't know if he should laugh or not. If this was a joke, it was a sick one. He never heard of this before. The four riders. He shook his head at his own thoughts, distraught.. "You telling me there are four riders? Existing for real?"

"As in the Four Riders of the apocalypse. To bring the end of the world and pass the last judgment to humanity. Yes."

Dante rose from his position, rubbing both his temples in circular motions in order to think and wrap his head around the revealed information. "Bullshit." He spat out eventually.

"I am afraid, it is not." Danzig objected mirthfully.

"I...uh...I gotta go." Dante announced, completely and utterly shaken. "I have to talk to Vergil about this." He made a beeline for the spot where the door previously had been and extended his hand, more than eager to leave. As he anticipated, Danzig made it visible for him again and he grabbed the handle.

Dante shook his head again with a light laugh, as he turned to Danzig once more. "You said it is a violation of the law. What will happen if...?"

"He isn't here by higher orders, but of his own volition. If this is discovered, the consequences of his actions will alter the world we know."

Dante grew frustrated at Danzig's ambiguity and let go of the handle to fully swirl around with fuming eyes. "WHAT WILL HAPPEN?" His voice boomed, not further hiding his impatience nor his distress.

Danzig merely shrugged, face as serene as a statue. "Mankind will cease to exist. I don't know about you half bloods, but I'm sure you will be affected just as much."

Dante laughed again. But it was more like he didn't know what else to do. "Well, I can't let that happen, now can I." He stated easily, concealing his looming worries carefully once more.

Finally he opened the door, stepping outside. "World's end my ass." Danzig heard the words echo from the hallway. He felt the shift in the barrier and knew that Dante swiftly had left his the safe confinement of his realm.

So, things were set in motion and Danzig impassively stared at his empty glass. Sparda's blood would need to continue to fight for a free world of mankind. A never ending story to the trader for as long as he could remember.


	3. Death has come

Chapter 3

Death has come

* * *

Rain was beating heavily down on the concrete of the dirty, old city. The smell was nauseating and Death knew, he already hated it with every fiber of his being.

The trail had gone cold. He was aware he would spent some time to rediscover it. On top of that he had to be subtle about it.

He hated subtle.

Not as much as his dear brother War though, but he still found it hassling to say the least. He smiled at the thought of having War here. And he regretted it deeply, to have him stay behind. But someone had to take watch on his behalf.

The forgotten realm, that only knew deep winter, they had occupied was in an uproar and War had to take care of things on his end. And because he took it personal, that someone had actually had been able to break into their home, made him more than wary. They had almost caught the suicidal bastard red handed, but didn't really anticipate the fight the thief had been putting up. And then he had just vanished. Through a portal to the human realm no less, which made it worse.

Death remembered sourly what had happened the last time, when a rider had set foot across the realms to enter earth. It had been burned and charred. Mankind had ended.

He involuntarily touched the spot on his chest where the accursed lantern had shattered and had embedded all the lost souls on a spot right over his heart. The wail of souls had been a constant reminder of his failure throughout the journey. How had failed his brother. He touched the yet again rough, but restored, unblemished skin. Sometimes it still felt, as if it was right there.

His heart clenched, but he quickly pushed the thoughts aside. He had to focus on the task ahead. Get back, what had been stolen. He ground his teeth and pulled his cloak tighter around his body. It was freezing and wet and he felt every ounce of it right to the bone.

The spell to conceal his true nature had worked just perfectly. It harshly affected his abilities, immunity and resistances to the ordinary world as a annoying side effect. But he had to experience and endure the cold and wet weather, which made him quite furious.

Death let out a low growl. Maybe he should have brought Draven with him. The warrior originated from this world and was accustomed the affairs of mankind. He knew very much, but all advises he could have given Death were cut rather short because of the immediate urgency to track the thief down.

Death's patience was wearing thin as he searched for a way to escape the rain and to stay the night. He needed to think. Plan ahead. Lay down strategies. But first and foremost he needed a place to haul himself in, undetectable by human and non human eyes.

His senses luckily weren't as dulled by the smell of the human city as he had anticipated. And he instantly recognized the fine scent that hung faintly in the air. The stench of malice and death. Murder. Nearby? He looked around to memorize his surroundings. Tall buildings, wet street. A bar. Neon sign.

He walked towards it with his head held high, hands on the scythes either side of his hip.

Still faint, probably inside.

Coppery taste.

Devious intent.

Death broke out into a heavy footed sprint and flung himself against the wooden door of the bar and it exploded with him jumping through and landing in the middle of the barely lit guest room in a predatory crouch, ready to lash out. The ceiling lamp swung wildly around above him. Dancing shadows eerily scattered across the room and it's occupants in a wild dance. There was a deep silence, few gasps and Death chuckled darkly.

He readied the scythes, pulling them out and twirled the one in his right hand in front of him, the other in his left secured his back. He breathed in and exhaled roughly.

All sinners must die.

In a flash and clouds of spilled blood, that splashed across the walls and across the filthy wooden floor, he made short work and small effort as he elucidated the meaning of his name to the inhabitants. He ended his assault as elegantly as it began, standing in the middle of the room with closed eyes and folding his scythes. The last body hit the floor with a dull thud.

His attack was quick and it was over in just a few blinks of the human eye.

Death, despite his height and broadness, was an overly agile fighter. His style was hitting in swift strikes and evading the incoming ones. He seldom had Harvester assembled in one piece, but separated into two smaller scythes, easily dual wielding those deathly weapons in motions too fast to follow by human eyes. He never wore much of an armor in favor of his speed, which was unmatched to this day by comparison to his fellow riders.

War would trust his heavy armor to absorb any blows or using Chaoseater as shield altogether. But Death liked the speed and momentum to split and maim his foes without so much taking as a single hit. Him and War did fight three times against each other and Death had to admit, that it had been hard. But he bested his younger brother every single time.

The last fight had been as real as it could get. And for the insubordination, War had payed the blood price as Death took his right arm, cut off cleanly just under the elbow. But after that, Death's guilt had weighed heavy on him for weakening his brother physically and permanently. So, he had taken War with him to the realm of the forge lands, where he almost had begged for them to make a new one for his dear brother. And that they did.

War's grudge didn't hold out for long, because blood is thicker than water. They loved each other forever. And the incident and Death regrets had taken it up to even strengthen the special bond between the siblings. One would die for the other.

In fact, Death proved it and did die for War once, but was later brought back when War finally crushed the seals at the end of his journey, as earth had ended. Death had willingly jumped into the well of souls to bring mankind back and dooming the Seraphim race to extinction.

He did it all for War. And he would do it over and over and over again. Death saved his brother as much as War had saved Death as the angels had threatened to kill him. It was then when he finally crushed their seals to summon all riders to take on the traitorous angels together.

And knowing this truth welded them together forever by heart and soul. They never fought each other again, and though War sometimes flaunted his juvenile naivety a bit too much, Death always counted his younger brother's opinions into his equations. And the fight among the brothers, that took place prior to the genocide of nephilim, and concluded in the loss of War's arm, never again crossed their minds.

They had become a team, that had to be reckoned with. Their fighting styles became even supportive of each other. War would take the hit, that couldn't be evaded and Death took out, who ever came within two feet of his brother. And by now, Death really wished for the company of War. But he could not bring himself to present War to the heavy punishment of the Charred Council ever again, if they found out about his whereabouts. And after Death would have dealt with his task, he would take on the Charred Council at last. He would take them on and end their reign for once all.

Shallow ragged breathing ripped Death out of his musings, which could be heard from a corner of the room. Death's low voice rumbled through the vicinity. "Go home. And don't come back here."

The two figures rose from their stupor, quickly shuffled to half stumbled, half crawl away from the tall figure, whose presence occupied nearly the entire space with it's sinister aura. Death holstered his weapons and took a look around. He frowned slightly upon the one soul he couldn't save. The woman lay in a heap of mangled body and ripped clothes on the floor at his feet and mercy. A pool of blood had spread from under her broken figure and cracked skull.

Death knelt down on his right leg and turned her around to look at her face. He then put his large hand on her forehead and murmured three words in a solemn low voice. "Onward innocent soul."

He stood back up and hummed. This place was as good as any to stay the night he figured, seeing as it was now vacant. Nudging the bodies to the side, that lay in his path he made his way upstairs to inspect the rest of the desolate place. Wasn't exactly home, but for now it would suffice his needs.

When he had finished examining upstairs, he went back down and rounded all bodies up into a pile behind the bar. Then he proceeded to place wards around the building. He sighed deeply, feeling distinguishable exhausted after the spell. His body felt the barrier that concealed his power. His body felt like shrinking and almost breaking apart after he had conjured his magic.

He went back upstairs and let Harvester clatter to the floor as he moved over to the bed. Face down he fell onto it. He needed to rest. His body ached under the pressure. He slightly turned his head in order to breath and to face the window. It was dawning outside. He thought a moment about pulling the blinders down. But with that thought, his weariness caught up to him. And before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

* * *

"Look, Vergil, if it weren't for Danzig telling me, I would call bullshit on this one." Dante explained, hands moving in circular motions to underline his words. "But it isn't."

Vergil sat in his usual spot, an old chair much like the one Danzig used. No coincidence at all, for it was a present from said one. His narrowed, unreadable eyes followed Dante pacing along the living room while recalling his talk with Danzig.

"Ridiculous." He hissed, casting his eyes downward to the blade he cleaned meticulously in his lap.

Dante stopped for a moment to point an accusing finger at his brother.

"Calling Danzig a liar. Tsk. You should know better."

Of course, Vergil did know better. But it was all very ominous to him. "Why never mention this earlier then?"

Dante's pacing went on. "Who knows? It was none of our business I guess. But something is stirring and I feel very much obliged to not die in an Armageddon."

Vergil scoffed. "Your suggestion is then to find this Death and tell him to do what exactly? Leave?"

Dante made finger guns, pointing them at Vergil, who just huffed. "Bingo."

Vergil highly doubted a favorable outcome of this on their account. It was predestined to go wrong. But he was curious as to what business precisely lead the oldest rider to this world. By giving Dante this information, it was clear as day, that Danzig hoped for them to take action.

Not much of a surprise. They trusted each other. But he knew the old man was kind of wacky, no thanks to the amount of time he spent alone in his realm, probably hunched over his possessions of thousands of years like a hankering magpie no less.

On the other hand, when it came to otherworldly matters there was no other Vergil knew, who exceeded Danzig's knowledge and abilities on any given account.

Danzig was much like a father to Dante and the bond of trust and friendship they had formed over the years was enough for Vergil to trust him. So, eventually Vergil inclined his head and gave Dante a smirk.

Dante pretty much cheered, when Vergil stood up and grabbed Yamato leaning against his armchair, for he had the precious sword always within reach.

"How do we find him then?" Dante asked, as they left the building.

"I don't know. How about we just call for him?" Vergil stated matter-of-factly.

Dante snorted, clearly amused at his brother's suggestion. "Right. By all means then, be my guest." He taunted Vergil with a wide flourish with both his arms.

They left the building, while deciding where and when they should try and yell for Death himself. Dante doubted anything to happen, but still they couldn't get careless because of the sheer absurdness of their ill-conceived plan.

So, Dante suggested to go the extra mile and try to gather more information. Vergil, not entirely seeing the point of his stalling, obliged nonetheless, not without arguing though.

"Love Planet? I hate that wretched place."

"Just bear with me this time. Or wait outside, then. Your choice." Dante nonchalantly patted Vergil's shoulder, who shrugged off with a glare. "I don't think so."

"What? You don't trust me?"

"I trust you enough to do something inappropriate, if I'm not there to keep an eye on you." Vergil rolled his eyes and Dante placed both hands over his chest, showing his mock hurt. "Bro. You wound me."

"Oh, I will, if you don't keep it straight to business this time." The older twin growled back, not feeling up to Dante's jokes. He was concerned, masking it with his usual stoic demeanor, but this concern lead him to quickly become impatient, especially towards his brother's antics.

"I got it, Verge. No need to get violent." Dante knew when he was about to cross the line and retreated.

Vergil spared him a wry smile before he teleported up ahead, pressuring Dante to make haste and to annoy him. Dante could teleport, but not nearly as far and fast Vergil. He heard the telltale grousing resounding behind him and knew he succeeded easily, ultimately eliciting a smirk from the austere twin.

They arrived at Vergil's not so favorite place in no time. Dante pushed the door open, with his foot, the locked door easily giving away under his strength. Vergil let out an exasperated sigh, yet followed with unflinching eyes. His brother had no manners, or anything else remotely close to it.

"Why the hell did you have to this?" A mellow voice chastised him the moment they stepped into the red light inside, drenching them both into an eerie look.

"It's always the same with you."

Dante grinned from ear to ear and gave the person behind the counter a naughty wink. He loved to agitate the hell out of him. Vergil strode past Dante, pinching his nose and his lips curled into a disgusted snarl. "Excuse my brother." The smell was the worst in this place, it made Vergil sick, but he put up a nice exterior for the sake of not anger anyone further.

Dante's agenda yet seemed to be on a whole another level, bobbing his head to the music and watching the girls on display, swaying his hips in unison with their movements. All the little beauties ruffled all his feathers just the right way. But as he felt Vergil's temper within his very blood stream, he tore his eyes away and regained his business face. He blew the girls a kiss and stalked over to where his brother leaned against the counter, like he fucking owned the world.

"Orid, you bastard. You didn't tell me you had new ones coming in." He referred to the exotic dancers from before, he clearly didn't encounter last time.

"It's because you make it a habit of destroying something, every time you come here." The blonde man pouted, which was undeniably cute. And not working on either of them. "We're here to see the boss man. He around?"

Orid flung his hair over his broad shoulders and jabbed his thump at the unadorned, plain wooden door. "In there. But please, be nice."

Dante gave him a glorious smile, you couldn't trust even in the slightest. "Aren't I always?" He said, with widened arms, turning on his heels and stalking straight to the door. "Don't mind announcing us." Vergil chuckled, seeing as Dante wanted to clearly do that himself. Orid gaped at both, knowing he would receive the short end of the stick and never hear the end of it from his boss later.

Fucking half breeds didn't listen to anyone. And it was pointless to even try to tell them off. Especially Dante. But boss man was aware of that, and wasn't even surprised as the door to his office was ripped open, revealing not one but indeed two white haired men, whose faces spelled trouble, as soon as he locked eyes with them.

"Not here for the show I presume?" He didn't bother with an unnecessary greeting, wasted words on both of them. Vergil immediately settled in a chair in front of his desk. Yamato rested on his knee, as he put his right leg to rest on his left. Vergil's fingers interlaced, hands on the shiny sheath, looking indifferent, like always. You would never know what went on behind those piercing stare. Yet, the man behind the desk felt the indication, that for once Vergil tried to come on as non threatening as possible. It didn't quite work though, he had always missed the loftiness his brother could sport at any given time.

Dante had the habit to stay close to Vergil, planting his butt on the arm rest of that cheap chair, miraculously holding the weight of the broad hunter. He crossed his arms over his chest, head inclined and a playful smile on his lips, he always seemed to have, no matter the nature of the situation.

It looked like the perfect set up to play good cop and bad cop, but their opposite wasn't easily fooled and wouldn't play along by any means. This was indeed getting old.

"What do you want?" He spat right into the face of their favorite, yet at the same time most dreaded, customer.

"Close the door, will ya?" Dante chirped, with a smug expression, that would want you to smack him one right across his pale cheek. He was being insufferable. Again.

But the man obliged with a polite nod nonetheless. He was too intrigued to give away his anger at them both for waltzing in and leave the door open, which they of course could have bothered to close upon entry themselves. He gritted his teeth, reminding him it was all a childish game of letting know, who called the shots.

He shut it gently on purpose, straightening his cheap jacket and himself, before he settled in his own chair, regaining a bottle from below, not bothering to present the offer to any of them. The silent one didn't indulge and the loud one, he wouldn't, even if his life depended on it. He could pay for his drinks just like everyone else, no exceptions there.

He took a whiff of the brown liquid, before taking a huge swig, groaning extensively a few times at the taste and cleansing burn, clearing his throat with a much more satisfied expression than before.

"Now, explain yourselves."

Vergil narrowed his eyes at the hostile tone, but Dante squeezed his shoulder. They had their fair share of taking the mickey out of their opposite.

"We just came to talk." Dante used his mild voice, which he usually kept solely for the ladies.

"Then by all means, talk." Another swig, the liquid sloshed in the bottle with the harsh movement, making Dante's mouth water. The damn fucker. "I know, you heard the rumors, Carson." Dante took a blind guess, but did so very convincingly.

Carson took a straight posture, now certain there was trouble around the corner, and sure as hell, the twins were not to far away from it. "Rumors travel faster than gonorrhea in this city." It even earned him a chuckle from Dante. They all relaxed back, the tension slowly dissolving on the tip of his tongue and the dirty joke.

"What have you heard? I know, Orid doesn't stand there just for his good looks, but to keep his demon ears as close to those thin walls as possible." And it was undeniably true. Orid was one of those few pure blood demons, that had rather taken a liking to live among humans. And his perks indeed came in handy to Carson, on more than one occasion. He was his eyes and ears, for Carson was a mere human after all, making his way through the swampy depth and mud of the wretched streets of Capulet City, successfully making quite living of it, too.

To start a business like this had been a strike of genius in short. Demons were in more need of his services than any other species. Well, his walls hadn't turned golden yet, but it paid off much more, than he could have guessed a few years back.

He and the half breeds weren't exactly what you called friends, but the were on good terms, concerning mutual gain and benefit from one another. Dante even kept the place safe, if he had to, and getting a bone thrown in, here and there, certainly helped. A free ride, that's what he called it at least, was doing the trick nicely.

Dante was well aware of that, but didn't mind. Vergil found it beneath them, yet Dante could care less. He was here to not only work, but have a good time, if he could find it. But these days, it certainly wasn't possible. Something always came up, disturbing his lounging in his beloved leather chair and his afternoon nap. Something was stirring, and if he didn't need any more confirmation, the showing of the Pale Rider had effortlessly persuaded him.

"Oh, you mean the vanishing of people? Or the black clad figure? Or the huge menace with scythes, that prowls the night, asking little questions and leaving too many dead bodies behind?"

What the hell? Both pair of blue eyes went wide.

"Those walls _are_ thin." Dante cajoled, catching Vergil off guard. His icy stare though bounced off of Dante, like it always did.

Carson laughed heartily. "Of course they are. And the alcohol does the rest to loosen their tongues and the girls turn their brains into useless goo, like you wouldn't believe it."

"Fantastic." Vergil spoke in a grave, sarcastic voice, he used when he had heard enough meaningless chatter. "Now, with that out of the way, have you heard where this so called menace is? We need to find him."

"Some boys had witnessed him, tearing a bar to shreds, along with the people inside, looking like a self righteous fucker straight out of a horror flick, with his bare protruding spine out of his back, scythes and all."

"That's exactly the one!" Dante pointed his finger at Carson, who simply shrugged, concern in his face. "But what of the others?"

Dante wiped the question away with a wave of his leather clad hand. "Oh, we already have that covered, don't you worry your little, balding head about that. Now, where do those boys did encounter him?"

Carson overheard that scalding mockery about his fleeting hairline, slightly grinding his teeth, for there was nothing he could do about anyway. Neither the joke, nor the vanishing hair. "Southern heights, they said."

Dante nodded to himself at the revealed location. It wasn't much of a district, mainly cheap flats and a lot of empty buildings, few bars, not as funky as this one, but the ones where drunkards chucked down watered down alcohol. It was closer to the human area of the city.

Demons, and other races, mainly kept to the bustling of the center and the northern heights, where the hunters lived. Simply because to not disturb the very world they wanted to blend in so desperately, leaving whatever realm they had formerly belonged to, behind forever. Not the smartest and securest way, but somehow they managed to coexist silently and hide what they had to. And himself had found out, humans weren't as narrow minded as he had believed, but the lesser they knew, was still the better and safest option.

"Well, thanks." Dante replied, standing up to tower over Carson's desk at his full impressive height.

"Wait, why do you seek him?" And what was more important, didn't he deserve anything than an empty handed thanks for relaying the information?

"Like I said, it's nothing to concern yourself with. Just be a good man, and keep your eyes and ears open. Or should I say, Orid's?" Dante smirked and was ready to leave, but Vergil wouldn't move. Instead, he signaled Dante with his raised hand and outward palm to halt in his actions.

"There's one thing though. For the time being, Dante is not permitted to come here. If he does, you will inform me. Be so kind, will you."

His brother burst into a protesting fit, as anticipated and aptly ignored all the same by Vergil, while Carson only nodded at the politely voiced, veiled threat. There were indeed few things he was afraid of, for a human. Maybe it was because he was dealing with so many otherworldly things and learned quite a lot with running this establishment, which earned him quite a good reputation among the races and species. And Orid filled in the blanks for him, making him a well for information, just like that douche bag Lore, whom he couldn't stand. Carson had gathered enough knowledge and knew how to kill many species, though he wouldn't ever share his secrets with anyone, for the effect of surprise always helped a great deal. But he had to admit, since the twins had openly started their business, it had become bearable beyond relief. The return of Dante's twin had kicked off the agency even more and they were notorious by now.

As friendly, though quite cunning, as Dante came across, Vergil was a whole another matter. Of him, Carson was afraid. He was sure, that on this hands, there was more blood than the hands of all murderers in the city combined. That cold voice and his stoic, devoid of emotion expression, could scare the living daylights out of his human skull, a vibe of pure hatred sometimes surrounded him like a dark cloud. That man (or boy, he couldn't be older than 18, but you could never be sure about that with those demons) was not one to fuck with. And to encounter him alone, without his idiot brother and the invisible control, he had over the dangerous mood swings, was the only thing that made him feel remotely safe. So, the only thing left for Carson to do was to voice his assistance to the dark half of the twins.

"Good." And without another look, Vergil stood, brushed past Dante and out of the door. "Relax, old man. He's harmless." Carson managed a nervous chuckle, his opinion clearly still another, but nodded one more time. Dante bent down and patted his head in a very inappropriate and patronizing matter only he could pull off, while looking easily thirty years younger than Carson.

Dante found it hilarious, that the man flinched under his touch. "You should do something about that hair, though."

Carson exhaled roughly, looking very much miffed, but couldn't help to gently touch the spot, where Dante's hand had previously rested. He _was_ balding, wasn't he? His shoulders slumped, what a severe blow to his ego. "But there's nothing I could do. It's in the human nature."

Dante gave him a nonchalant smile. The one that would male the girls outside swoon all over him. "Ever thought of shaving it off altogether? I'm certain, you could pull that off."

Carson's face suddenly lit up. He had never thought of that before. His questioning look rested on Dante's reassuring one. "You only say that, to later make fun of me, if I do that. Or to get on my good side." He guessed, with a suspicious underlying tone.

Dante retorted the accusation with an act of a teary eyed, hurt expression, wiping an imaginable tear from the corner of his eye, but turned serious all of a sudden. "First, you don't have a good side, which I don't need to be on anyway. I'm only trying to be helpful. Seriously, do it. Get rid of it."

Carson inclined his head, for the hunter sounded offended at first and then genuine, like you wouldn't believe it. "Hm, I might give it a try. It would look good on me, don't it?" He mused with tracing the thinning hair gingerly. He already pictured himself looking handsome like an sophisticated twin of Lex Luther. The idea seemed more appealing with every passing second and touch of vanishing hair.

But he received no answer, for Dante had simply left, grinning like a madman form ear to ear, for planting that obnoxious idea into the owners head, and disturbing his brother outside with it. "What did you do?"

"Payback, Verge." He couldn't wait to see that ugly light bulb shape out in the open and to laugh his heart out when he would visit next time.

The twins made a quick sweep of the district, pinpointing the location easily. The faint feeling of dread and smell of blood and decay hung in the air, the sickly sweet scent raising their agitation the closer they got. The moment they tried to enter through the barred door, an invisible force pushed back.

Neat.

"Huh..." Dante scowled at the entrance, pointing his sword upwards. That's where he could exactly feel the presence hover inside.

A few slashes later, Yamato cut through the sorry excuse of a barrier, weakening it enough to squeeze their bodies through. It still held out enough to tear at their skin, ripping, clawing and cutting where it could, but eventually and under great strain, they made it inside. Both smirked at each others bloodied face, already healing up. Their ruthless actions depended on the immense healing factor both possessed, knowing and trusting it equally to mend their bodies back to a tip top condition.

It was a small sacrifice, both actually took quite often, without so much but the blink of an eye. "Hah, that actually hurt." Dante dusted himself of and wiped the remaining blood off his face. Vergil mimicked his actions, dignified look and all, and scoffed mildly. "Quit whining, Dante." It was dark and murky inside, dust particles lazily dancing around their heads. No light, no warmth, this thing felt like a tomb.

Dante was about to respond, as the ceiling started crashing down, both quickly evading the debris, that hurled at every possible direction. A heavy thud came from within the cloud of smoke. Vergil's sword sung and the air blades made short work of chunks of stone and wood, additionally slicing whatever had landed a mere feet away from them.

Or so he thought. Dante readied Rebellion, hearing nothing but a short heavy breath from the middle of the room. And then came the scythes.

He was quick, that they have to give him credit for, Dante almost underestimated the force the weapons tried to hit him with. But it was two on one. The distinctive sound of Yamato echoed through the air, swift and precise strikes meant to maim the Rider and render him immobile.

Of course it was the Rider. The possession of such a dark aura, they both had never come across up to this point, gave him away plenty. It was so otherworldly and foreign, they had known instantly, as he had crashed through the ceiling.

Dante had a hard time deflecting the wild onslaught. The blows tried to force him to his knees. He held Rebellion in front of him, blocking the two deadly scythes from cutting his head clean of. Who would have thought the reaper to be a dual wielder? Over the edge of his blade he watched with narrowed eyes, as orange glows found his in the dark. A low snarl build in his throat, dry from dust and dirt.

Death pushed back and evaded Vergil's attack, propelling himself with planting his heavy boots against the blade of Rebellion, sending Dante flying across the room and into the wall.

It cracked under the impact, leaving a gaping hole. As Death checked briefly, the red clad figure was already gone, but his focus shifted to his blue clothed lookalike. That katana was deadly for certain. Strong enough to sever his limbs with a single cut, if he could mange to connect it. This was no ordinary sword, as much as those two were no ordinary humans. They reeked of Hell, a stench that clung to their every fiber, yet still a strange gentle scent of humanity mixed into it.

Well, if they could bleed, Death was sure they could die. It might just take a while longer than usually.

Vergil knew, Dante attempted to split Death's head from above, keeping him occupied with attacking viciously, but he found that the Rider was indeed a match for his proud display of attack speed. He grunted, barely escaping one scythe, that managed to cut a along the fringe of his spiky hair, while the other moved to slash his stomach, but barely missed. He was good, the older twin had to grudgingly admit.

Vergil teleported away, and Dante took this as his cue to swing Rebellion down attempting his helmbreaker move. Death lifted one weapon above his head, sparks flew and Dante was blown away yet again from the sheer force, as the attack was deflected. He cursed under his breath, watching Vergil resume his fast wield of Yamato, anger bubbling up inside him. It would seem like they all could do this forever. He gripped the hilt of his sword with determination, feeling his own rage burning him up from his stomach to his ears.

They fought on, heavy pants coming off from all three by now. It seemed useless. Whatever they would throw at the figure, he managed to counter. Actually, they did not land a solid hit, the Rider still completely unscathed, were Dante had already suffered a few broken bones, painfully mended, through his ruthless style, and even Vergil sported a few, already healing, cuts from the sharp tips of those scythes.

Death was slowly feeling it though, and found himself to be fed up with the two pesky nuisances, invading his make shift quarter without any reason. But he would make them feel it too, the strain they put on him and his enchanted body. Doubling up the speed yet again as a last resort to get rid of them, he offered a true taste of his abilities, having them both huff soon enough, straining to keep up with him.

He retreated into a corner, back secure for once, facing them with his indifferent face. They matched each other perfectly, yet held a totally different air in comparison. Curious. Very curious. The concept of being twins wasn't something Death had been familiar with. It was a human trait only.

"What? Don't tell me you're already tired?" The one with the hair down gloated, giving his sword a scrutinizing look, before sprinting towards him again. Death merged the scythes, a black smoke erupting from all around him.

"Don't mess with me, insolent half breed!" And that made Dante stop dead in his tracks. If he thought him to be powerful before, this was a whole another level. It physically hurt to hear the voice inside his head. His eyes started to water and he was sure he could feel it crack his skull open.

He fell to his knees and Vergil dashed over, standing, barely, in front of his brother, wind blades attacking still. But it was all in vain. The moment they hit the aura, they popped like ripe grapes. The sound was sickening for Vergil to hear. His powers clearly no match at all, his eyes wide with confusions to what this thing truly was.

If he had any doubts, concerning Danzig's story, they disappeared like Yamato's attack, vanishing into thin air. The huge figure came closer, a hand raised to render them both immobile. Vergil fought against it, but felt his powers draining out of him like water gushing from a tap.

The beast towered over him, his skin sickly purple and eyes like burning coals. "Do you not know Death, when you look him in the eye?" The voice made his ears bleed, commanding both of them to cower. So, it was true. The reaper had come for them. Would this be the last seconds they had on this wretched earth?

Vergil still managed to lift his head, making his neck crack slightly, and give him the most rotten, defying stare he could muster. His jaw clenched, when he felt the force still pushing down on him.

"So proud." The deep and sharp voice cut through his very existence, shoving it right into his astonished face, what weak creatures they were. They acted like kings of the city, and yet here in this old and destroyed building, both had finally found their match.

Vergil growled at him, showing his teeth, a smirk that let his opposite know, he wasn't scared, though. He wouldn't bow his head to anyone.

Dante took a few moments to gather himself, supporting his frame on Rebellion to get to his knees, eyes looking up at how Vergil stared with a rage in his blue eyes, that made Dante shiver. His blood boiled, feeling that desperation Vergil had pent up in his chest. And the unadulterated hatred mingling with to an explosive mix.

"We came to stop you." Dante said, straining his vocal chords painfully. "You murdered those innocent people." He meant the ones, which laid piled up behind the counter.

And then it happened. The tall figure chuckled, lowly at first, until it became a full on loud, edgy laugh. It mocked them both, he laughed at them. "Innocent?" His amused, gruff voice asked. Their reply didn't come, naturally, his hold on them was too strong, though he had to make it quick. This was as difficult to maintain as it seemed, because he still wore the seal he wouldn't break in order to not let loose another apocalypse and reveal his true nature to the earthen realm, which would react immediately to it.

Death knew, he had to strike hard now. Or...

"These weren't innocent people. The woman was. But she was dead the moment I stepped in, acting as judge and executioner at the same time for those disgusting bastards. They were murderers. And they received the rightful punishment for their deed."

Dante was stunned. And somehow, he knew deep, that his words were nothing but the truth. It echoed deep in his soul, his human part responded quickly. Could it really be?

"Who are you?" He asked, testing the entity, wanting to hear it from himself.

"I already said. I am Death."

No fucking way. Did they really found him that easily? He couldn't be that sloppy right? Dante's brain worked through all possibilities. "Word has it, you came here to retrieve something. A valuable trinket. The whole city is in an uproar thanks to you. You might wanna watch it, buddy."

"And who are you, to judge the actions of a rider, half breed?" The voice became harsher and louder, making Dante's tongue and heavy and stick to the roof of his mouth. But the stalling worked nonetheless. Maybe..

"You wanted to help that woman?" Vergil now spoke, voice only slightly quivering. "Why?"

"The innocent are not be harmed."

Oh. Maybe this was their chance. "Look at us." Vergil demanded, eyes swirling with blue curiosity, if the Rider could truly see. He never killed anything other than demons. So did Dante. They were after all here as demon hunters, not murderers on someone's payroll.

And Death indeed took gander, at both souls. "Innocent would be a stretch, but..." The hold vanished as quickly as it had come, both falling to the ground with a thud. Yet regaining composure within a second. Dante jumped to his feet, leaning on Rebellion, to catch his breath. Vergil righted his cravat and straightened his blue trademark coat.

Death on the other hand was relieved. He couldn't have held out any longer, and he was close to exhausting his gathered pool of power. He needed time to restore it.

"You speak the truth." Death admonished, as he detached the huge scythe to the single smaller ones, securely tugging them into his holsters at both hips. They stood in silence, assessing each other, yet visibly relaxing.

"We are not enemies it would seem. Why'd you attack us?" Dante twirled Rebellion under his palm, pointing his finger accusingly at Death. The rider furrowed his brows, straightened himself until he let a smirk show on his face. "You broke into my hideout?" He sounded mocking again, and Dante found himself to develop some kind of respect for him, even grinning back.

"Fair enough." Dante shrugged lazily, exchanging a meaningful look with his brother. Not all was as it always would seem. They were treated like the predators they looked like, maybe even wanted to come off as to a certain extent, it kept the idiots off their backs. Yet, they wouldn't harm a fly. For innocent flies weren't on the menu. But blood lusting demons were. No exceptions there.


End file.
